Chapter 5

And so, Jinseong became absorbed in magic.

Like a gambler who wins big on their first bet.

Like a farmer who experiences a bountiful first harvest and never forgets its taste.

Perhaps like a merchant who, by pure luck, acquires a vast fortune.

Thus, Jinseong resolved to become a shaman.

And this vow endured, even as the world spiraled into war and he, reduced to a corpse-like state, set himself ablaze.

Even if time were to rewind, it would only be natural for him to walk the path of a shaman.

“Though magic may possess countless faces, it is bound by one singular body. This, we call obsession.”

With a smile, Jinseong retrieved a PET bottle from the refrigerator.

The red liquid inside shimmered brightly, evoking the gleam of a ruby, and exuded a thick, intoxicating aroma that was the essence of life itself, as pure as melted jewels. The color was radiant and its scent was sweet, brimming with vitality.

Blood.

The fluid coursing through the veins, the substance that constitutes life: blood.

Blood serves as a catalyst in many forms of magic.

Symbols are crucial in both magic and summoning, as well as in shamanic practices. Astrologers assign symbolic meanings to celestial bodies, naming them accordingly. Likewise, magic etches meanings into elements and diagrams to form magical circles. Much of shamanism relies on extracting symbols from materials, with purer ingredients yielding greater effects.

The blood Jinseong held was of premium quality — a 2+ grade, certified by the Catalyst Cooperative. Considering that the price of even superior blood rivals gold, this could be considered top-tier by any measure.

But…

“This blood won’t do.”

Despite its purity, Jinseong returned it to the fridge, dismissing its value as a symbol of a virgin’s blood.

—

“I need trash.”

The purer the catalyst, the better.

A gem should be flawless.

The purer the owner, the better the blood.

A freshly deceased corpse is preferable.

Treasures should lack sentiment.

Artifacts must carry a history relevant to their purpose.

Hence, what Jinseong sought stood in stark contrast: he needed refuse. Items so degraded they couldn’t be traded — like vegetable scraps or sawdust.

“I suppose I’ll have to hunt for trash, since I’m not ready to be a mercenary yet.”

After saying this, Jinseong rose from his seat and began searching through his room for appropriate clothing. First, he picked up a pair of black pants.

Crack.

He bit his ring finger to draw blood, a steady stream that poured despite his light bite. With this blood, he began drawing a symbol on the crotch of the pants — a character that resembled childish scribbles yet bore resemblance to the ancient scripts used by shamans or the oracle bone script of ancient China.

Horizontal lines at the top and bottom, a single vertical stroke in the middle, and the S-like curve of the symbol “S” adorned the design.

This character represented the shamanic symbol for Wu (巫), signifying the bridge between heaven and earth.

“A firm stance needs steady legs, and steady legs require flexible hips. Each step carries a history.”

Ancient Chinese wisdom placed significant focus on one’s gait. The art of martial arts first taught the gait rather than weapon mastery. Likewise, the practice of talismans prioritized grounding before channeling celestial energies. This tradition allegedly originated from the legendary first ruler of Xia Dynasty, Emperor Yu, who could manipulate the elements with his walk.

On the other hand, the Korean Peninsula focused less on the gait and more on its components. Practitioners there became fixated on breath and rhythm, while shamans concentrated on the means of movement. Summoners focused on the column connecting heaven and earth, forming the foundation of modern Republic of Korea summoning arts.

The symbol Jinseong inscribed on the pants served as this connecting column.

The Wu character, representing one who bridges heaven and earth, became a perfect symbolic intermediary.

“Om-”

As Jinseong focused his mind, the pattern began resonating, darkened to match the pants’ fabric, and spread through it, leaving only a small hole at the crotch and fading away.

“The rest can be prepared along the way.”

Jinseong donned the newly enchanted pants, opened the window, and stepped into the void.

His leg sank into an ocean of air, threatening to pull him down, but…

The space bent.

Jinseong reappeared at a hillock behind the mansion, a distance of 10 ri (4 km).

“Om-”

Through this single step, he traversed 10 ri, a superior enchantment devised to amplify the movement aspect central to the peninsula’s tradition.

This was known as the Shortening Earth Method.

—

Using the Shortening Earth Method, Jinseong arrived at the rear mountain and closed his eyes. The symbol woven into his pants channeled earthly energies through his legs and connected him to the stars above, even in the light of the sun.

The stars whispered through their light, and the earth murmured through the swaying weeds.

“It’s here.”

Hearing this, Jinseong struck out into the air.

Shaaaark!

A snake emerged in his grasp, writhing and hissing, its black body streaked with yellow bands.

“Black Yellow Snake. It’s somewhat disappointing that it’s not venomous.”

Shaaaak!

Caught mercilessly, the snake screamed, trying to constrict Jinseong’s arm despite his unrelenting grip. But Jinseong’s training in shamanism had honed his body, and the snake’s strength was no match for his iron arm.

Without hesitation, he snapped the snake’s neck.

Prudduck!

Even as its head was removed, the snake continued to wriggle, attempting to constrict Jinseong. But his strength tore it apart effortlessly before he raised it to his mouth, skin and all.

Crunch! Grind!

The taste was not bad, indeed excellent, like a fusion of chicken and fish into a refreshing sashimi.

Though disliked by many in Korea, snakes are consumed in various parts of the world. During the 70s-80s in Korea, live snakes were believed to improve vitality and were often eaten raw, though this practice occasionally led to parasitic infections.

And that was precisely why Jinseong indulged now in eating the snake raw.

“This will not do.”

After devouring the snake, Jinseong pocketed its head and closed his eyes again.

Shaaark!

The next catch was a brown snake, emanating a spicy scent reminiscent of acacia, its dark brown color marked with lighter stripes. It was a venomous creature with a reputation for striking fear into novices meditating deep in the mountains. Even today, with antidote-magic artifacts widely available, caution was still advised around this beast.

“Seven-Pointed Snake.”

A snake so poisonous that a bite often resulted in death within seven steps, also known as the Seven-Jewel Snake. Even with modern advances, one remained vigilant.

Prudduck!

Jinseong decapitated the snake, then commenced devouring it raw. Unlike the first, this snake’s flavor was spicy, reminding him of dipping sashimi into chili paste. He ate the snake, about a pound of flesh, right where he sat.

And then, retrieving the snake’s head from the ground, he muttered to himself,

“Jackpot.”

—